Hospital Bed
by Alilla Unique
Summary: A tragic night that took valuable lives away. Brendon can't do much but cry. All for not remembering what happened that night . Ryan had to feed him lies. One-shot. Rydon/Ryden.


_Rydon one-shot._

_Brendon Urie and Ryan Ross._

_Read Non-stop._

_And_

_Review._

_:D_

**Hospital Bed**

When he finally woke up he couldn't even open his eyes and his body wouldn't obey when he tried to move.

All was silent and it was when Brendon noticed when he started panicking. He strained to make out any sound. Anything. Spencer's snores, Ryan's grumbles or Jon's sounds in the kitchen. But he came out with nothing.

And he couldn't feel anything as well.

He would have thought he was floating in thin air if he didn't know better, but did he really? He couldn't feel the bed under him, covers on top, not even the long hair in his head. He started to question.

Then, ever so slowly, he started to get his senses back.

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

"God." He groaned , noticing his voice was hoarse. He couldn't even try to sit up without wincing in pain.

His eyes followed the walls around him filled with various tables and shelves that were completely white but didn't put much importance in where he was once he noticed human warmth on his left hand and heard soft breathing. He stared in shock at what he saw.

A soft thin hand was squeezing firmly onto his hand and messy light brown hair was attached to the head that rested on the edge of the bed, aside of their tangled hands, the head going up and down with the breathing. Brendon stared in awe and squeezed back, frowning once he noticed his own cold hand couldn't possibly match his warm one.

The breathing hitched and the head groggily turned up. With his free hand balled into a fist he rubbed his eyes before freezing completely when he noticed Brendon's stare. Ryan's jaw dropped to the ground. Brendon frowned.

"Where am I?" He asked. Ryan didn't respond, just stared at him with the same expression, his hand still buried into his eye before dropping it onto his side. He then noticed his hand laced with Brendon's and blushed lightly, slowly taking his hand back. Brendon's frown grew deeper.

"Well?" Brendon tried again, his eyebrow quirked. Ryan stuttered with words, trying to make a full sentence.

"You're awake." He finally said. Brendon rolled his eyes.

"No shit, Sherlock." He said in mock surprise. Ryan shook his head furiously, trying to get his thoughts straight.

"I have to tell a nurse." He muttered and started towards the door. Brendon's eyes widened. He was utterly confused.

"What do you mean by _'finally _aw_'_-, wait, _nurse?! _Am I- Ryan! WAIT!" He finished with a yell. Ryan stopped as his hand was on the door knob and, sighing, he turned around.

"Hm?" He hummed, trying to sound bored but in the end his voice broke as he tried to hold back tears but, thankfully, Brendon didn't notice.

"Please don't leave. I'm confused." Brendon pleaded. Ryan pursed his lips but nodded, sitting on the chair next to Brendon's bed again.

"You don't remember anything?" Ryan whispered after a long silence. Brendon shook his head and could have sworn he heard Ryan mutter something that sounded like 'Lucky.'

"Was is bad?" He asked, "Did I fall down the stairs? Car crash? Got drunk? Or did I simply just manage to get myself hurt?" Ryan stopped his eyes watering and forced himself to just stare into Brendon's eyes, revealing nothing.

"No, Brendon. Something much worse." He responded. Brendon's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Worse?" He asked. Ryan didn't nod or turn away.

"A shooting." He responded. Brendon held his breath.

"Something tells me you're not talking about a photo shoot."

Ryan glared at him and clenched his jaw.

"Don't be an idiot, Brendon." He tried not to snap at him. The consequences weren't his fault.

"Where's Spencer and Jon?" Brendon asked, genuinely curious. Ryan cleared his throat to stop his voice from quivering.

"They didn't make it." He said as strong as he could manage. Brendon's eyes grew larger and then narrowed on Ryan. The machines beeping had gotten wilder by now, but neither of them paid any attention to it.

"You're lying." He hissed.

"I'm not."

"They wouldn't leave us just like that. They aren't like that." Brendon spat out. Ryan remained emotionless.

"They didn't have much of a choice, Bren."

Silence.

"How?" Brendon suddenly asked. He didn't need to say anything else for Ryan to understand him. He was desperate to know. Ryan sighed shakily.

"I-I," He cleared his throat, "The bus. The tour bus," He started out in a quiet voice, his eyes staring into space on the wall behind Brendon as he recalled that tragic night, "We were all laughing and having fun the night of our last tour concert watching t.v. Well, Spencer was the one laughing. Jon was making fun of us with the whole 'Rydon' rumor. You just went along with it to show Jon his teasing didn't affect him. I, well, I was doing the exact opposite. Yelling at Jon and hitting him with the couch cushion," He let out a humorless laugh, his face turning darker, "And then we heard a knock on the door," He grimaced, "Spencer decided to open it since he was the best at handling fans… It just happened too fast." He whispered. Brendon leaned closer in order to hear the story better.

"Then what happened?" He whispered. Ryan's eyes moved back to lock with Brendon's.

"They demanded for the bus." He said. Brendon frowned.

"And Spencer didn't want to give it to them." He stated glumly, staring out to the window that led to the green park behind the hospital. Watching all the patients use their last minutes of life. Ryan's eyes widened slightly.

"You're starting to remember?" He asked, seeming relieved. Brendon shook his head sadly and sighed.

"Just stating the obvious." He smiled at the window, remembering Spencer's stubbornness.

"Want me to continue?" Ryan muttered.

"Yes, please." Brendon responded, now staring at the older boy in front of him. Ryan nodded and rested his head on the back of his chair, staring at the ceiling.

"After a long while of Spencer arguing with the men one got _so _fucking angry he took his gun out," He furiously wiped the corner of his eyes to prevent the tears that were threatening to spill, "And I closed my eyes in time to not witness what happened next," He took a deep breath, "Jon got completely insane and instantly started to fight them in order to try and save Spencer's life," He shook his head and tried to form a pattern in the ceiling, "He didn't stand a chance."

"Then?" Brendon's voice was back to hoarse, filled with tears, and just above a whisper. Ryan let out a bitter laugh, as if recalling something else. But seeing him staring at the ceiling so calmly and collected made Brendon wonder.

"I looked for you but you weren't seated beside me anymore. I got worried. I knew it was a matter of time before they realized I was witness of the murders they made and stopped arguing about," He cleared his throat and put his head up to stare at Brendon again, "the _dead bodies_. I ran into the only place I could think of. The bathroom. And I locked myself in."

"Then you saw something." Brendon said more than asked. Ryan shook his head.

"I heard something." He stated. Brendon's eyebrows furrowed.

"What?" He inquired.

"Who." Ryan corrected.

"Who?" Ryan gave a short nod.

"I heard your voice. You were shouting Spencer's and Jon's name." He said. He didn't say anything else. Brendon had caught on and his eyes widened.

"Was I _that _stupid?" He asked. Ryan gave him a sly smile.

"Yes."

"Why am I not dead?" Ryan sighed and buried his hand in his hair.

"You were knocked unconscious and they thought you were dead before they ran away. After you fought them, which was completely _stupid_, may I add," Ryan shot Brendon a glare and Brendon responded by shrugging, "The police arrived, and I was still locked in the bathroom," Brendon imagined Ryan in the corner of the bathroom hugging his knees to his chest, "I was sure you were dead and on the floor like Jon and Spencer." Brendon grimaced.

"And I wasn't." He said. Ryan shook his head.

"You were on the floor." He said. Brendon raised an eyebrow.

"Was I?" He asked. Ryan rolled his eyes.

"No. You were knocked unconscious and put on the couch." He spat sarcastically. Brendon shrugged.

They stayed in silence for a long while. Ryan trying not to remember all the blood and level his breathing, Brendon trying to process all this information. It was all too much.

"When's Spencer and Jon's," He cleared his throat, "_funeral._" He asked. Ryan frowned.

"It already passed, Brendon." He replied numbly. Brendon's eyebrows furrowed.

"But if it only happened yes-"

"You were in coma for 2 months." Ryan said, biting the inside of his cheek so hard he started to taste blood.

"I was?" He whispered. Ryan stared at the ground and Brendon's eyes widened when he heard Ryan sniff and a drop of water hit his knee.

7 years of knowing George Ryan Ross III and not _once _has he witnessed him crying.

Without another word Brendon scooted to the edge of his hospital bed and patted the space beside him. Ryan looked up with his eyes rimmed red and lied on the bed beside Brendon.

Suddenly, Ryan felt an arm slip around his waist and Brendon's leveled breath on his exposed neck, indicating he had fallen asleep.

Ryan was hit with slight guilt but just as it emerged, it disappeared. His face turned dark and impassive and a single tear slid down his check.

Brendon didn't know the truth. He had been fed with pure lies. It was for their good.

The tips of Ryan's lips turned up and he faced Brendon, kissing his forehead softly as he watched the younger boy with his lips parted and a peaceful face on. Looking like a little five year old boy again.

_But yet, he never has to know._


End file.
